


Love Letters From a Jock

by SterekTrask_Okay_Okay



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 05:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10824915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterekTrask_Okay_Okay/pseuds/SterekTrask_Okay_Okay
Summary: Stiles agrees to tutoring, only because he wants to help underclassmen make something of their lives. What he did NOT sign up for was tutoring a senior, aka Derek Hale, who was the biggest jock at school. On top of it all, Stiles has to deal with his nosy best friend and trying to figure out who keeps leaving him love letters in his locker.





	Love Letters From a Jock

Stiles was good at school. Actually, he was _great_. Yeah, he was very aware of it, but he wasn't one to brag. Not to his friends anyways, but family was a different story. They liked to hear him brag about his academics and scholarships he would most likely get. But Stiles was bored halfway through his junior year, because he was already taking all of the senior classes he needed to graduate early and he was passing those with flying colors. Which is why he offered his help.

 

"Mr. Harris, I'd like to help with after school tutoring," Stiles said, adjusting his backpack strap that hung off one shoulder. He was never particularly comfortable around Mr. Harris, but he managed to stay on the man's good side. Stiles blinked at him a couple of times before realizing Mr. Harris wasn't acknowledging him. "Mr. Harris? Uh, can I tutor someone? I have free time," Stiles tried again, leaning over the library counter.   
  
  


Mr. Harris looked up now, readjusting his glasses as he gave Stiles a small smile. "Mr. Stilinski, nice to see you," he greeted with a slight head nod. "If you want to help, just sign your name here on this piece of paper," he said, sliding a lined paper towards Stiles and then placing a pencil on top. "And once you've done that," Mr. Harris added, after Stiles had already started to sign his name. "You can go ahead over to the corner where Derek Hale is."  
  


Stiles' eyes widened at this as he finished dotting the last 'i' in his name. "Wait, did you say Derek Hale? As in, senior Derek Hale?" Stiles blurted out, looking up to where Mr. Harris seemed to still be smiling. Stiles did not find this funny, whether Mr. Harris was being serious, or if this was some cruel joke.   
  
  


"I did," Mr. Harris confirmed, taking the paper and pencil back to shove them underneath the counter. "And if you want to tutor someone, it will be Derek Hale, because you are taking the same classes as him, and he's failing. If anyone can help him, it's you. So get over there and try your best."  
  
  


Stiles may have groaned and thrown his head back in annoyance, because this is not what he had in mind when he decided to help students with their grades. He figured he'd be helping underclassmen, most likely a little freshman, and that way Stiles would have no attraction to him, or her whatsoever. But of course he got stuck with Derek freaking Hale, aka most attractive guy in school, and most popular. Stiles did not feel like dealing with Derek's shit today.   
  
  


"Fine," Stiles grumbled, shooting a glare at Mr. Harris only when he turned his back on Stiles. He sighed and turned to face the corner of the library, where Derek was actually sitting, and Stiles wanted to die right then and there. He had still kind of hoped, before he turned around, that Mr. Harris was just really great at jokes, but no. Derek was sitting at the table all alone, book open in front of him, but he obviously wasn't studying. Not when his phone was out in front of him. "Derek," Stiles said as he sat down beside him, dropping his bag to the floor.   
  
  


Derek looked up from his phone to raise an eyebrow at Stiles, and then turned back to the screen. "What're you doing here, Stilinski?" he asked, avoiding eye contact. If Derek couldn't put two and two together to figure out that Stiles was here to help, then Stiles was a little scared he wouldn't be able to do much for this stupid jock. Because seriously, it wasn't that hard to figure out.   
  
  


"I'm your tutor, idiot. Put that down," Stiles ordered, and Derek kind of just laughed at him. "Derek, if you don't want to fail, I suggest you let me help you. In order to do that, you have to put your phone down for like ten minutes, okay?" Stiles, although upset about this situation, was determined to go through with his original plan, which was to help whatever hopeless student that was thrown his way. This student just happened to be a highly attractive senior that Stiles had no chance with, ever.   
  
  


Derek sighed softly and turned his phone off, shoving it in the pocket of his basketball shorts, which he wore pretty much everyday after school because he had basketball practice. Stiles only knew that because his best friend, Scott, had tried out for the team last year and he made Stiles sit in the bleachers and watch. Although he really only watched Derek.   
  
  


"Alright," Derek agreed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I guess this could be worse." And that's probably the nicest thing Derek Hale has ever said to Stiles, or even in the same room as Stiles, which puts a little more hope into Stiles' chest that Derek maybe won't fail his senior year. "What do we start with?"  
  
  


Stiles sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, because he kind of did those types of weird things while he thought. Derek was staring at the table, hands in his lap. "What are you struggling with the most?" Stiles asked finally, letting out a sigh.   
  
  


Derek let out a small sound that was meant to be like a sarcastic laugh as he gestured over all of his books setting out on the table. "Um, everything," he replied, and Stiles had to smile at him, because Derek Hale wasn't all that bad.   
  
  


They spent the next two hours working on calculus, which was Derek's worst subject of all. Stiles was really good at math, but it wasn't his favorite, so it sucked spending a whole two hours on it. But Derek did grasp most of what Stiles was teaching him, even if he did get frustrated a lot. Stiles noticed that too, because when Derek was frustrated with himself, he would dig his fingers into his hair and pull at it until he realized how to do the problem, or until Stiles showed him an easier way.   
  
  


All in all, one day tutoring Derek Hale wasn't that bad. But Stiles didn't know if he could handle the next few weeks, or maybe even months if Derek still needed him.

+++

"So you're tutoring Derek Hale?" Scott asked in disbelief as he walked in step with Stiles down the hallway. As soon as Stiles had made it home, thankfully not murdered by Derek, he had texted Scott and told him about it. Scott wasn't exactly chill about the whole thing either. He was literally freaking out.   
  
  
  


"Uh, yes?" Stiles replied, flinched away from Scott's overly excited arm punches. "Dude, chill out!"  
  
  


"Stiles!" Scott yelled in a hushed voice as they approached Stiles' locker. "Don't you get it? You can become friends with Derek Hale, and then we'll be in the popular crowd. Or at least you will. But then you can talk to Allison and tell her how great I am, and then I'll have a hot girlfriend and you can see Derek Hale close up everyday while admiring his body."  
  
  


"Scott, you're fucking weird," Stiles retorted, twisting his combination in to open his locker. As soon as the door swung open, a small piece of paper fluttered out and landed at his feet. He quickly bent to pick it up before Scott could, which resulted in their heads smacking into each other. Stiles groaned as he stood back up, rubbing the top of his head. "Dude, ouch," he complained.   
  
  
  


Scott ignored his pain and suddenly crowded Stiles against his locker, attempting to see what was written on the paper. "What is it? What does it say?" he asked, and Stiles pushed his face away and rolled his eyes. "Is it a love letter?" Scott teased.   
  
  


Stiles ignored his best friend and unfolded the paper, met by beautiful handwriting and just a small handful of words. It read:   
  
  


_Stiles, I would never have the nerve to tell you this in person, but I think you have the most beautiful eyes._   
  
  


Stiles blinked a few times, and then shook his head. Scott snatched the paper from his hands before he could object and started to read it out loud, but Stiles quickly shut that down by clamping his hand over Scott's big mouth. "Dude, shut the hell up!" Stiles hissed, moving his hand because Scott was laughing underneath of it. "I seriously hate you," Stiles grumbled, shoving the paper in his pocket and then proceeded to grab his materials for class.   
  
  


"Stiles has a secret admirer," Scott cooed with that stupid grin on his face. Stiles wanted to smack it right off his lips. "This is awesome dude. Someone thinks you're totally hot."  
  
  


"Shut up," Stiles snapped. "I hate you so much."  
  
  


"I love you too, Stiles," Scott replied, and then he was stalking off towards class, yelling about Stiles' secret admirer and Stiles was seriously reconsidering his choices in friends. And then his thoughts about pushing Scott in front of a car, but in a friendly kind of way, were interrupted by Derek Hale's voice yelling down the hallway at him.   
  
  


"Stiles!" he called, rushing past underclassmen to reach Stiles. He looked ridiculous with wet hair, which was probably from showering after his practice this morning. And then Stiles had to try and get his mind off of Derek in the shower, so he shook his head and met Derek's eyes when the senior stopped in front of him, holding tightly onto the strap of his backpack as if the world would end if he dropped it. "So I guess the library is closed after school today."  
  
  


"Yeah," Stiles replied. "There's a teacher thing going on. Did you want to study?"  
  
  


Derek looked behind him, then to the right and left, like he was checking to make sure none of his popular friends saw him talking to Stiles. That kind of hurt, but he wasn't complaining. At least he was talking to Stiles in public. "I was hoping," he said with a slight shrug. "I have a test in three days and I really can't afford to fail."  
  
  


Stiles nodded in understanding and readjusted his books in his arms. "You can come over after school if you want. My dad will be home, but he won't bother us." Stiles wanted to smack the look off of Derek's face, because Derek looked like that was the worst possible idea anyone had ever suggested, and that hurt even more than Derek not wanting to talk to him in front of his popular friends. "Or we can not study." Stiles took a step back, ready to turn on his heel and leave.  
  
  


"No, Stiles, wait," Derek said hurriedly, wrapping his fingers around Stiles' wrist. "I need you. I need your help." Derek didn't drop Stiles' arm, but he looked annoyed. "I just think we should study at my place. It'll be more, uh, comfortable for me. Please." Derek was giving Stiles this wide-eyed look and even though Stiles didn't like Derek at all, he found him so attractive right now that he couldn't say no.  
  
  


"Yeah, yeah sure. That's fine, but I don't know where you live and I also didn't drive myself to school, Scott did, so-"  
  
  
  


"I can take you," Derek said, cutting Stiles off. "That's not a problem. Just meet me outside after school." Stiles nodded as Derek gave him something that resembled a smile, and then Derek was walking away, and Stiles had to shake himself out of his daze because the bell had already rang and he was going to be late for class.

+++

The rest of the day was really slow for Stiles, and he wanted to smash his head into a wall every time he walked into a different class room. Sure, he wasn't really looking forward to tutoring Derek after school, but anything was better than going over things he already knew, and had memorized. It was too boring and Stiles really just wanted to get the day over with, and get tutoring with Derek over with as well, because he wanted to go home.  
  
  


Scott walked next to him as they made their way towards Stiles' locker, and he was going on about Allison, so Stiles was tuning him out. Even when he started to open up his locker, Scott was still rambling on, and Stiles caught a few words, but he didn't actually care. And then Stiles opened his locker and started to reach for his books to put in his bag when he noticed the folded paper sitting on top of his history book. He quickly picked it up and shoved it in his pocket before Scott could notice it.   
  
  


"What did you just shove in your pocket?" Scott asked, stopping his Allison story mid-sentence to raise his eyebrows at Stiles.   
  
  


Stiles looked at him as if he was completely confused by Scott's accusations. Stiles shook his head and bit down on his bottom lip before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and slamming his locker shut. "Nothing, just a pencil, Scott," Stiles lied, and Scott was too busy trying to finish talking about Allison to question it. But Stiles couldn't sit there and listen to it any longer, so he tapped Scott shoulder and came up with an accurate excuse to leave. "Derek is waiting for me outside. We're studying at his house since the library is closed. I've gotta go, so I'll talk to you later, Scott."  
  
  


Stiles left his best friend standing there speechless as he walked, or more like ungracefully ran, towards the exit. Then he wasn't really paying attention, and ran into this huge guys' chest, and kind of fell on his butt. "Watch where you're going! Son of a b-"   
  
  


Stiles was staring up at Derek, who was red in the face with either annoyance or anger, but either way, it vanished when he realized it was Stiles' who had ran into him. He stopped talking in the middle of his sentence, his angry look turning sort of guilty. "Uh, sorry, Derek. I didn't see you," Stiles squeaked, accepting Derek's hand as he extended it towards Stiles.   
  
  


"It's okay," Derek mumbled, looking away from Stiles. "Come on," he added, hand still in Stiles', but Stiles figured it was only because he didn't realize he was still holding onto his hand. Stiles wasn't going to point it out either.

+++

Derek parked his fancy camaro in the driveway of his fancy house, and Stiles was pretending not to be impressed, but it was extremely difficult because Stiles was in literal awe. Especially once Derek had led him through the -empty, because Derek neglected to tell him that no one would be home- house and up to his room. Derek's room was beautiful, and large, and everything was organized and there were actually _books_ , on real shelves. Of course there were a lot more sports things, but still. Derek read books, _for fun_. Stiles never would've guessed that.   
  
  


"So I think we should start with this science shit, because I don't understand any of it," Derek said with a sad little sigh as he plopped down heavily on his bed. Stiles nodded and sat his bag down on the floor, trying to decide whether or not he should sit next to Derek on the bed, or across from Derek in the desk chair. He chose the desk chair, and he ignored Derek's eyebrows questioning him as he opened up his book and started to figure out which questions to ask Derek.   
  
  


"Okay, we're learning about evolution, right? So I'll just ask you a question and you tell me the answer if you know it. If not, I'll put a star by it and we'll go over them again," Stiles said, earning a groan from Derek in return. Stiles smirked, because somehow it was funny to him, even when Derek shot him a glare and turned away. "Alright, we'll start with vocabulary. What does the term, comparative morphology mean?"   
  
  


Derek made a face, his mouth falling open as he lightly pulled at his hair. "Shit, I don't know. I don't know any of this, Stiles."  
  
  


Stiles quickly drew a star next to the term and ignored Derek's complaints. "Alright, what's fitness?" Stiles asked, playing with the pages of his biology book and purposely avoided looking at Derek, who had taken to laying down with his arms tucked behind his head.   
  
  


Derek snorted and probably rolled his eyes, but Stiles wasn't watching. "Like, exercising and stuff? I haven't studied these words much. Maybe we should find a more interesting way to study," Derek suggested, and Stiles had to look at him now, because he was a little intrigued by the ideas that could be running through Derek's head at the moment. Maybe Derek could make studying fun, instead of boring like it was right now.  
  
  


"What do you have in mind?" Stiles asked innocently, raising his eyebrows in question. Derek smirked, and Stiles was suddenly confused. "What?"  
  
  


"We could make out," Derek dead panned.   
  
  


Stiles rolled his eyes, annoyed by the fact that Derek thought this was funny. "Seriously, Derek? That's not funny. Just because I'm one of the few openly gay guys in school, doesn't mean I automatically want to make out with every guy I see. And also, I don't want to be the subject of you and your stupid little jocks because you make up some story about me saying I wanted to kiss you, because I don't."  
  
  


"Stiles, I-"  
  
  


"Back to the questions," Stiles said before Derek could come up with anything clever to say that would make Stiles feel bad about snapping at him. "Explain what a radioisotope is, and why-"  
  
  


"I wasn't making fun of you, Stiles," Derek said instead of answering. He sat up quickly, his book that had been lying closed beside him falling to the floor with a loud thump. "I was just-"  
  
  


"I've got an idea," Stiles interrupted, because apparently they weren't letting each other finish their sentences, and he suddenly remembered a way he used to study with Scott a couple years ago when they were freshmen. Derek would probably hate it, but Scott hated it too, which is why Stiles did it. "Scott and I did this when I had to tutor him our freshman year. It's kind of embarrassing, but the way you do it is, when you get a question right, I take off one piece of clothing, and when you get one wrong, you take off one. Then the person who loses has to run around the backyard naked for a full minute, which it's not as fun when you don't have neighbors, but it's still really cold outside and whoever loses, it'll be funny."  
  
  


"Dude, you just want to see me naked, and you're making up games," Derek accused, and Stiles was about to go off again about not wanting to make out with every single guy just because he was gay, but then he noticed Derek smirking, and he decided to keep his mouth shut. "This sounds stupid, and it's an easy win for you."  
  
  


"No, I'll let you read over my study sheets for ten minutes before we start," Stiles offered, and Derek seemed as if he was really considering this. Stiles figured he'd give a quick no, and then make fun of Stiles for being gay or something, but he didn't. "It worked when Scott was failing freshman history," Stiles pressed, trying to convince Derek it would be a good idea. Honestly, he didn't know why he was willing to do this with Derek, because yeah Derek was insanely good looking, and he probably had the best abs in the whole world, but he didn't _like_ Derek. Not More than he liked any other of his friends. Not really, anyways. If he ever started to think of Derek that way, he quickly pushed those ideas out of his head. Derek would never want to be with him anyways.   
  
  


"If getting naked helps me pass the test, then I'm all for it," Derek replied with a hint of amusement behind his tone.   
  
  


Stiles gave a small laugh, but it was genuine. "That's the spirit," he praised, grinning at Derek. "I mean, you don't want to run around outside in the freezing cold butt-naked, so it'll motivate that cute little head of yours to start thinking and you'll actually learn a few things," Stiles rambled on, even though it wasn't necessary because Derek had already agreed.   
  
  


Derek had just grabbed a bottle of water off his bedside table and was in the process of taking a drink when he almost choked on it, and then immediately set it back down on the table. "Cute?" he asked, eyes wide as he stared open-mouthed at Stiles.   
  
  


Stiles searched his brain for something to say that wouldn't be completely stupid, or harmful to his physical, and mental well-being. "I'm not hitting on you," Stiles said quickly, avoiding eye contact by digging through his bag for his study guide. "Sometimes I just say things. Sorry," he mumbled. He met Derek's eyes only long enough to hand the papers to him, and then looked away again. "Just study those for a few minutes, until you think you've got it down."  
  
  


Derek fell silent, and then so did the room, except for both of them breathing, and the rustle of paper every now and then when Derek turned a page. Stiles had turned the chair half way around, so that if he looked over he could see Derek, but he wasn't going to look over.Eventually he got bored, and then he remembered the note in his locker that he had hid from Scott, and it was now sitting in the safety of Stiles front pocket. He carefully dug it out, trying not to be too loud so it wouldn't catch Derek's attention. He unfolded it silently, and read the neatly printed words.  
  
  


_I may have liked you since middle school, but it's not weird. You just have this incredibly likable personality to you, even though we hardly ever talk. I just like who you are. Maybe one day I'll actually tell you who I am, but who knows when I'll work up the nerve for that._   
  
  


And this time, it was signed with a small heart.   
  
  


Stiles smiled to himself, reading the note over and over again, until he realized Derek was staring at him. And Derek wasn't just _looking_ at Stiles; no, Derek was _studying_ him. Stiles met his eyes, and Derek suddenly turned away, pretending nothing had just happened. Stiles did the same, turning back away from Derek to fold the paper and shove it back down in his pocket.   
  
  


"What were you reading?" Derek asked quietly, though his eyes were still glued to Stiles' study guide. "You seemed to be happy about it."   
  
  


Stiles couldn't quite figure out what Derek's expression read, but he knew it wasn't just him being a total dick, like Stiles would expect. That didn't mean Stiles was going to tell him what it was. He didn't even tell Scott the second time, and he only knew the first time because Stiles' hadn't seen the note before Scott had noticed it also. "It was nothing," Stiles replied, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. He cleared his throat and turned to face Derek. "So have you memorized some of it?"  
  
  


Derek made a face, and then let out a long sigh as he dropped the paper beside him on the bed. "Sure, but I'm still gonna end up running naked through the backyard. With my luck, there'll be some unfortunate jogger, taking an innocent run through the woods."  
  
  


Stiles laughed at this, even though Derek glared at him. "Okay, let's start then. Remember, you get them right I strip, and if you get them wrong, you strip."   
  
  


"I got it."  
  
  


Stiles nodded, opened up his book again, and took a deep breath. Was he really ready to see Derek Hale strip? _Was Derek Hale seriously going to strip in front of Stiles_? Guess so.   
  
  


"Question number one," Stiles said, a smirk on his lips. This one was probably going to be easy for Derek, which would give him a little hope. But Stiles was not running around naked, so he would make the following questions harder. "What is natural selection?"  
  
  


Derek opened his mouth to answer, but then snapped it shut again, unsure if he was going to be right. Thinking wisely here would be the better choice, considering he'd have to strip if he got it wrong. "Natural selection is when organisms are better adapted to their environment and stuff, and like the species who can adapt are the strongest, so they get to have more babies and shit and the other species who aren't as strong don't reproduce as much."  
  
  


Stiles sighed and bent over, wedging his thumb underneath the elastic of his sock before peeling it off quickly and throwing it to the side. "One for Derek, zero for me," Stiles mumbled, and Derek may have been glaring at him, but Stiles just smirked. "What, I never specified which piece of clothing had to come off first." Derek rolled his eyes and motioned for him to keep going. "Okay, back to the question I gave you earlier. What is comparative morphology?"  
  
  


Derek groaned at this one, shoving a pillow over his face as he did so. "I don't actually know that one, because I looked over it, but the definition was too complicated and I didn't bother."  
  
  


"Derek, what is complicated about the study of the structures of various organisms in relations to each other attempting to understand evolutionary development and phylogenetic relationships among species? You know what all of those words mean, don't you?" Stiles countered, raising his eyebrow at Derek. Derek just shrugged. "Alright, well take something off. You missed it."  
  
  


Derek grumbled something under his breath and then sat up to take off one of his socks. The next question, he also missed, so he peeled off the other sock, and then the question after he got right, and so now the only option for either of them were their shirts, or their pants. They both also only had three more articles of clothing on, so there was that.   
  
  


"Who popularized Uniformitarianism,the idea that natural forces in the past are the same as today?" Stiles asked, eyes glued to the page he was reading off of. When he did happen to glance up, Derek was concentrating very hard on this answer, and it looked like he knew it, but just couldn't quite put a finger on it. "His Principles of Geology influenced Darwin's thinking on Natural Selection," Stiles added, hoping it would help Derek.   
  
  


Apparently, it did, because his face lit up as he smiled. "Charles Lyell!" he exclaimed, followed by an excited fist pump. "Boom, I got it. Take the shirt off," he said mockingly, a smirk on his lips.   
  
  


Stiles rolled his eyes, but he knew what the rules were. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt between his thumb and finger and quickly, but ungracefully, pulled it up and over his head, and then discarded it next to his socks. There was something about the way Derek was staring, eyes taking just a few seconds to look over Stiles chest, and Stiles didn't know what he was thinking. Derek cleared his throat and looked away quickly, his cheeks a little red, and Stiles could feel his own cheeks heating up as well.   
  
  


"Alright, which period of time did relatively dry climate lead to drought-adapted gymnosperms and insects such as beetles and flies?" Stiles asked, willing his face to stop being red and his heart to stop racing. Derek hadn't done anything but _look_ at him, so why the hell was Stiles such a mess?  
  
  


Derek rubbed his hands over his face, and then through his hair. He made an exasperated noise, much like Stiles' _done with life_ noise he did so often. "Shit, I don't know. Is it the Jurassic period?" Derek guessed, and no, it wasn't, which meant Stiles was about to witness Derek Hale taking off his shirt. Holy shit, he was _not_ ready for this.   
  
  


"Uh, no, it was the Permian period," Stiles replied quietly, because Derek was already sitting up and crossing his arms across his torso, like the guys in movies did when taking their shirts off. Derek freaking Hale would be the type of guy to take his shirt off like that, where as Stiles struggled to even take it off in a normal way. Stiles tried not to watch, but he couldn't help it. The hottest guy in school was stripping. Stiles may have been staring a little too close as Derek lifted the shirt gracefully over his stomach, and then past his chest, and fuck, Stiles was going to die right here and now, because Derek would either kill him with the sight of his perfect body, or strangle Stiles with his hands for staring at said perfect body. But Stiles was okay with dying, because Derek's abs would be the last thing he saw, and he was perfectly fine with that. They were heaven in and of themselves. Jesus.   
  
  


"You know, pictures last longer," Derek said simply, returning to his position as before, which was laying on his bed with his arms behind his head, except now he was shirtless and Stiles was starting to think some very inappropriate and dirty thoughts about Derek.   
  
  


"What are you, like ten?" Stiles retorted, but he was still trying not to blush, and he was definitely not staring at Derek's abs. Except maybe he was, because Derek's eyes were now covered by an arm, so he couldn't see Stiles. Derek stayed silent except for a small snort, so Stiles rolled his eyes and kept questioning him. "Alright, next you'll have to. . . name the three eons," Stiles said, ignoring the fact that Derek had just now thrown a pillow at him.   
  
  


"I hate those fucking eons," Derek grunted. He took a deep breath and Stiles watched as his stomach rose and then fell, and he seriously couldn't stop looking at Derek. "I know one of them is the Phanerozoic or something, and the other one also has to do with Phanerozoic something, but I have no clue what the other one is."  
  
  


"Pants," Stiles said simply and Derek shot him a literal death glare, because Stiles swore his heart freaking stopped from the fear that Derek could probably beat the shit out of him if he wanted to. "And the two you didn't know were Eras of the Phanerozoic and Archaean eons."  
  
  


"Fuck you," Derek mumbled, but he was smiling, so Stiles didn't take him seriously. But he also didn't even have time to think about being angry, because Derek was too busy shoving his basketball shorts down to his ankles, and then kicking them off to the side. And shit, Stiles was done. Why had he even suggested this? He was committing suicide!   
  
  


"Yeah, sure," Stiles grumbled, but not in the way Derek took it, and Stiles couldn't help but laugh as Derek stood there, half naked, staring at Stiles as if he had just heard him curse for the first time. "Derek, I didn't mean- dude, just sit back down so I can continue, please." Derek didn't say anything, but he did sit down, so Stiles continued, trying his best to ignore the growing bulge in his jeans, and he really hoped Derek didn't notice it. "Alright, which eon was the origin of eukaryotes, protists, plants, and animals?"  
  
  


"Phanerozoic eon," Derek replied quickly as he grabbed the pillow he had thrown at me before and shoved it in his lap before Stiles could question him. "That has to be right. I swear-"  
  
  


"It's right," Stiles assured him, standing up. carefully undid the button on his jeans, fully aware of Derek's eyes burning into him. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and yanked them down, and then stepped out of them to kick them off to the side. Stiles looked at Derek, but didn't meet his eyes. He could visibly see the way Derek swallowed as he stared at the floor. "Last question," Stiles reminded him. "If you get it right, you win. If not-"  
  
  


"I know," Derek grunted, looking up to meet his eyes. "Just ask it."  
  
  


Stiles nodded slowly, looked back to his book, and found a question. "What is radiometric dating?" Stiles asked, and he honestly wasn't sure if Derek would get this or not. He was a little worried he would, but at the same time, Stiles didn't want Derek to fail. He wanted him to get this right.   
  
  


"What the holy hell does that even mean?" Derek sighed, shaking his head. He mumbled something else, and then stood up with a grouchy look on his face. "I'm not taking these off until we get outside," he told Stiles, and Stiles shrugged. "Come on." Derek started to walk away, and Stiles didn't purposely trail behind, but he couldn't help it that Derek's ass was _amazing_. "Stiles, don't stare at it. I'm self conscious," Derek teased, glancing back at Stiles, who was so red he could feel the heat coming off his face without really touching it.   
  
  


"You don't have a reason to be self conscious," Stiles said before he could stop himself, and then his face was worse, which he didn't think was possible, and he was ready to just go home already.   
  
  


"Shut up, Stilinski," Derek laughed as he reached the door leading out to the backyard. He opened up the door and Stiles suddenly remembered he forgot to put his clothes back on, so he was standing in his underwear freezing his ass off, when Derek was the one who was supposed to be freezing. "Don't stare at my junk," Derek said, stepping out onto the porch. Stiles stepped outside after him, and then closed the door.  
  
  


Derek wasn't facing Stiles, which was probably for the best. But Stiles got a full view of Derek's ass, and he sure wasn't going to complain. Especially when Derek pulled the tight fabric down his thighs, exposing his bare skin, and then he _bent over_ , which made Stiles' half, not really that noticeable boner turn into a full one that Derek was going to notice at some point, because Stiles was in his underwear. Derek glanced back quickly once his boxer briefs were discarded at his feet, and Derek's eyes did slip down, but thankfully, he didn't say anything.   
  
  


"So I just, what, run?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. He was completely calm for someone standing naked in thirty degree weather.   
  
  


"Pretty much," Stiles squeaked, because he was still trying -and failing- to hide his boner. "I'll time you, for a minute." And Derek shrugged, taking off to run laps around the backyard. Stiles didn't stare, because he didn't want to be awkward. Sure, Derek was hot, but Stiles didn't need to see his dick. Even if he kind of wanted to.   
  
  


By the time the minute was up, Stiles was so cold that he was shaking. "You're good!" Stiles yelled at Derek, who was halfway around the yard on his third lap. Derek gave him a nod and started to jog back over to him, immediately picking up his underwear, and this time _facing_ Stiles as he slipped them back on, smirking the whole time because he was a jerk sometimes.   
  
  


"You're shaking," Derek pointed out.   
  
  


Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's below freezing and I'm half naked. How're you not freezing?" Stiles shot back, because Derek seemed fine actually. He'd been running, sure, but he should still be _cold_ , right?  
  
  


"I don't get cold easily, especially if I run," Derek replied, taking a small step towards Stiles. Except he leaned past him to open the door, and then pulled back while cursing under his breath. "The door is locked."  
  
  


"Dude, I'm about to die from hypothermia. Get me inside," Stiles snapped, but not in an angry way. He was just really cold. His eyes widened when Derek stepped even further into his personal space, but as soon as he was pressed against Derek's chest, he wasn't as cold. "Dude, that's not human. You're fucking warm. How the hell?" Stiles said, letting his head fall against Derek's shoulder. Derek's arms were around his shoulders, and it may have been a little weird, because Stiles was still hard, and Derek seemed to be having a little bit of the same issue. Stiles really just wanted to go inside.   
  
  


"Wait, I think the window is unlocked," Derek said, prying himself away from Stiles, who groaned in response to that, because Derek's body heat left him and now he was shivering again. Derek walked over to the window and pushed. It took him a minute, but he got it pushed open, and then he pulled himself through. Stiles followed after him quickly, because it was too damn cold to wait any longer.   
  
  


"That was great, wasn't it?" Stiles asked sarcastically, rubbing his arms because he was still cold.   
  
  


Derek slammed the window shut and turned to face Stiles, who was seriously contemplating on hugging Derek again, because he was _so_ warm. "Want a blanket or-" Derek stopped when the front door flew open, and both Stiles and Derek's eyes went wide. "Shit," Derek hissed, about to push Stiles towards his room, but the damage had already been done.   
  
  


"Derek!" the girl yelled, but she didn't seem angry. She was actually smiling. "Holy shit, you guys better get dressed and fast, because mom was only five minutes behind me." She laughed as she rolled her eyes, and it was a little awkward when Derek had to push Stiles past the girl because she was standing in front of the stairs. She just kept laughing at him, even when she made eye contact with Stiles, which made her laugh harder.   
  
  


"Who was that?" Stiles asked once they were upstairs in Derek's room and they were getting dressed again. Stiles had to be home soon anyways because his dad was going to order them pizza for dinner, and Stiles promised he wouldn't skip.   
  
  


"My sister," Derek grumbled. "Laura. She's a pain in the ass sometimes, but at least it wasn't Cora who caught us. She would've told my parents." Stiles didn't even know Derek had sisters. "Uh, thanks for helping me study."  
  
  


"Sure," Stiles replied with a small smile, slipping his t-shirt back over his head. "You can keep the study guide for a few days, if you want it. I don't mind." Stiles shoved his shoes on his feet and pushed his books back into his bag.   
  
  


"I'd like that," Derek said, giving Stiles a hint of a smile. "My test is Friday, so I can give it back then."  
  
  


"We don't have tutor sessions on Fridays, and we have classes at different times. But if you see me-"  
  
  


"We don't have to have a tutor session. There's this party at Lydia Martin's house. We could go, if you want. I can pick you up and bring your papers then," Derek offered, and Stiles nearly fell over. Did Derek Hale just ask him on a date? He was speechless, literally. He just stared at Derek. "Stiles? Do you want to-"  
  
  


"Yes," Stiles got out finally, a small smile at the corner of his lips. He said he didn't like Derek as more than a friend, and that still stood, but Lydia Martin's parties were supposed to be amazing, and Derek was a great guy, so why not? "I'd like that."

 

Derek's smile was big and he couldn't even hide it from Stiles by looking away, because Stiles had already seen it. "Me too," he mumbled, and then he grabbed his keys off his bed and his jacket, which he wrapped around Stiles' shoulders. "Come on, I'll take you home."

+++

Stiles tutored Derek the next three days in the library, because there was no reason for them to go to Derek's house again. Stiles was kind of disappointed at that because he had a lot of fun at Derek's house, with Derek. The stripping part was fun anyways, and they couldn't strip in the library without serious consequences. But it wasn't all that bad really, because it wasn't awkward between them anymore, so they talked as much as they studied. They may have ended up staying at the library for about four or so hours, but it wasn't because they were being forced. Stiles loved talking to Derek, and he learned a lot about him in those two days. He learned a lot about Derek's family, and of course he told Derek about his, and his mom, even though that was personal. They talked a lot, is the point here. Stiles could officially say he liked Derek, and as more than a friend. He thought Derek liked him back, too, but he wasn't sure.

 

And then it was Wednesday and Stiles was really starting to freak out. He'd never really been to a party before, and now he was going to one, and with Derek Hale. He was terrified he would screw something up, especially since he actually had a crush on Derek now. A big crush, because Derek was way less of a jerk than Stiles' originally thought.

 

"Stiles, are you alright?" Scott asked, bumping into Stiles' shoulder as they walked down the hall towards Stiles' locker. He had been trying to ask Stiles that question since first period, but Stiles always found a way to cut him off, or get out of the situation.

 

"I'm fine," Stiles replied, although he wasn't really sure. "I'm just worried about this party. I'm scared I'll mess something up with Derek. I really think we're getting somewhere. I like him, a lot." Stiles stopped in front of his locker, but hesitated on opening it just in case his secret admirer had left him another note. He didn't want Scott to see it.

 

"Stiles, you're going to be okay. Just be yourself." Scott smiled reassuringly before squeezing his best friend's shoulder and stepping away. "I have to meet Allison. I'll see you at the party," he promised, and then he was gone. Stiles sighed and waved as he ran off, then finally was able to open his locker. He was glad he didn't open it when Scott was still standing there, because there was another note. This one was shorter than the last.

 

_You have a nice face. . . and a nice ass_

 

Stiles shook his head, smiling at the little piece of paper. He quickly shoved it in his pocket when he heard footsteps coming towards him, and then slammed his locker shut. He didn't need some jock to see him with the note and take it from him, start calling him insulting names, and probably get shoved into a trashcan. It had happened before. He slung his backpack up on his shoulder and started down the hall before anyone had the chance to make fun of him.

 

Except standing at the front doors were a whole crowd of basketball players, Derek included. Actually, Derek was the one yelling and joking around the most, a huge smile on his face as he pushed Jackson Whittemore's shoulder playfully. If Stiles didn't want to draw attention to himself, then he'd have to pretend he couldn't see them. He kept his head down and made it out the door with only a couple stares, and he thought he was safe. But Derek had other plans.

 

"Stiles! Wait up!" he called, running down the steps after him. Stiles stopped, only because it was Derek. "Do you need a ride home? I have to take Jackson home too, but I like you more. You can sit in the front." Derek smirked at this, staring at Stiles, waiting. Jackson was ambling closer, making Stiles feel a little uncomfortable, but he didn't say anything about that. "It's no trouble. And I can go ahead and give you your study guide back. I hope you don't mind I wrote on it. Writing things down helps me remember."

 

"It's fine. As long as you're learning," Stiles replied, smiling back at him. "And yeah, I'd like a ride." Derek nodded and dug through his bag, eventually pulling out the papers. There were a little crumpled and bent, but Stiles didn't really mind. He didn't need the notes anymore. He took them back anyways and shoved them in his backpack without looking at them.

 

"What's he doing here?" Jackson asked when he approached them. Stiles rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth clamped shut. He didn't want to say anything stupid in front of Derek's friend. He was already embarrassing Derek enough by going to a party with him. He may have liked Derek, a lot, but he didn't really think Derek was ready for the whole, coming out in front of people thing.

 

"He needs a ride home. Get over it," Derek snapped, lightly shoving Jackson. They both smiled and Jackson shrugged, following Derek as he started walking towards his car. Stiles jogged to catch up and tried to ignore the glares Jackson was shooting his way. "Jackson, you're in the back this time," he added as he unlocked the doors.

 

"But I-" Jackson sputtered, but Derek cut him off with a very intense glare that shut him up quickly. "This is fucking stupid," he grumbled, climbing into the back. Stiles grinned to himself, liking the fact that Jackson was the one not getting his way this time. Usually it was Jackson bullying Stiles, but not today.

 

"You're pretty stupid too," Derek replied. Stiles started to laugh, but it turned into a very hard blush when Derek winked at him. Then he started up the car and that was the end of the flirting. It was quiet after that.

+++

 

"What time is this party going to be over?" Stiles' dad asked as they finished eating their pizza for dinner. Stiles had ten minutes before Derek showed up to rescue him from these repetitive questions. He had asked the same ones in different wording at least three times. Stiles nibbled at the crust, which he wasn't a big fan off, and shrugged. "Stiles, maybe you should stay home."

 

"Dad," Stiles said back, eyebrows raised. "Seriously? Let me be a teenager for once. I just want to go to this part with a hot guy and have fun. I'll be home before midnight. I won't do drugs. I'll be good. I promise."

 

"Fine," he replied with a large sigh. "But I better not get a call from work saying you got arrested."

 

Stiles grinned and tossed his plate in the trash, right as soon as the doorbell rang. "Don't worry dad. You won't," he promised, and then disappeared to open the door for Derek. Derek who was looking extremely sexy, as always, but maybe a little more for some reason. Stiles just put on a plain t-shirt and his best pair of jeans, but Derek looked like a freaking model. "Uh, hey."

 

Derek wore a huge grin as he looked Stiles up and down. "Hey," he replied, offering his hand to Stiles. "Ready to go?" Stiles took his hand and nodded, since the words refused to come out. He let Derek lead him over to the shiny black car and Derek even opened his door for him. Stiles felt extremely hot and he knew his cheeks were at least a little pink, quite possibly even a very bright red.

 

Derek slipped into the driver's seat and peeled away from the curb as he flipped through radio channels. "Derek? I have a confession," Stiles murmured, awkwardly playing with his own fingers as he stared down at his hands. Derek hummed a response and Stiles smiled in an uncomfortable way. "Um, I've never been to a party before. At least, not at a popular girl's house."

 

Derek almost laughed, but Stiles watched him hold it in and shake his head. "Stiles, you'll be with me. You're going to fit right in, okay? Don't worry about it." He smiled reassuringly and hesitantly reached over, his fingers wrapping around Stiles'. Stiles felt his breath hitch in his throat and he tried to remind himself to breathe. "And you look great, so don't worry about that either." His smile turned into a smirk as Stiles blushed ever harder than he had earlier.

 

"Well, you look better," Stiles mumbled, attempting to look at Derek and then immediately looking away because he was blushing too hard.

 

Derek rolled his eyes as Lydia Martin's house came into view. There were plenty of people outside, most of which were Derek's friends. Stiles suddenly felt very nervous. His hands were shaking as Derek parked in between two other car and got out. Stiles took a deep breath and did the same, but his heart was pounding. "Stiles, calm down," Derek whispered, leaning in close. He turned so that he was in front of Stiles and cradled his face in his hands. "You're going to be okay," he said, his face inches from Stiles'.

 

"I'm not popular like you," Stiles retorted, trying to steady his hands by placing them on Derek's chest. He felt hot right now with Derek so close to him. People could've been watching, but Derek didn't seem to care, so neither did Stiles.

 

Derek smiled, touching his nose to Stiles'. "I don't care how popular you are, Stiles. I really, _really_ like you. If anyone has a problem with that, then they can take it up with me." He leaned in closer, his lips brushing across Stiles'. Derek was still smiling when their lips connected. Stiles gripped fistfuls of Derek's shirt, trying to bring him closer, even though they were already pressed against each other as close as possible. The air was cool, but Stiles was still sweating, so Derek's cold hands curved around the back of his neck was a relief. Derek pulled away too soon. "Let's go inside," he whispered, squeezing Stiles' hand as he started walking towards the house erupting with loud music.

 

Inside was far more crowded than any place Stiles had been, especially in such a small area. There were too many drunk teenagers falling all over each other, throwing up in the corner, or making out in the middle of the room. Derek kept pulling Stiles through the crowd, pushing people out of the way because he could do that without starting fights. Stiles was given many odd looks, ones that made him feel so small. No one here liked him.

 

"I'll go get us drinks!" Derek yelled over the music. Stiles seriously hoped there was something other than shitty beer, because if not, he was going to stay thirsty. He didn't say anything though. He nodded as Derek disappeared into the crowd. Stiles stood there, waiting at the bottom of the stairs. It felt like forever, but at some point, there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see one of the guys on the basketball team. All he did was gesture for Stiles to follow him, and Stiles didn't know how else to respond, so he followed the guy up the stairs.

 

The music wasn't as loud, so Stiles could hear better. He had no idea what he was doing upstairs, but he didn't think it was good. There were more of them though. More guys from the team, but no Derek. Stiles was more than confused. "What's going on?" Stiles asked, scooting back away from them in case they planned on ganging up on him and beating the shit out of him. It seemed like something they would do.

 

Jackson stepped out in front of them, a mischievous grin playing at the corner of his lips. "You're here with Derek, right?" Stiles nodded, not knowing how else to respond. Jackson laughed along with the rest of them. "You're pathetic. You know he's using you to get good grades? He can't graduate without them, so he's using you. He's not gay. Two weeks ago, he was telling me all about this girl he fucked." Jackson chuckled again, probably at the expression on Stiles' face. "Just do us all a favor and stay away from Derek. He doesn't need gay rumors going around and you don't need the false hope, because nothing is ever happening between you two."

 

Stiles didn't wait around to hear them insult him. He raced down the stairs, ignoring the yells of angry drunks when he knocked a drink from their hands. He saw Derek on the way out, but he didn't stop. Derek gave him a questioning look, but Jackson's words just kept repeating in his head. He kept running. He walked all the way home in the cold and when he made it inside, he curled up in his bed and vowed to never come out again.

+++

 

The next morning, usually he would've been up by ten to see his dad before he left for work. He would've gotten up, but he didn't want his dad questioning him. So when his dad pushed the door open, he pretended to be asleep until he knew for sure he had left the driveway. Then, and only then, did he get up, and only to pee. He also might have grabbed a pudding cup or six to eat in his bed. He had sort of gone through a breakup, so he thought he deserved it.

 

After a full season of a show on netflix and all six pudding cups, Stiles still didn't feel like getting dressed. He had to recompose himself before Monday, because he couldn't skip school. He could, however, ignore Derek and anyone else who asked about him.

+++

 

Sunday wasn't much different than Saturday. Six more pudding cups, another full season, and Stiles added in a shower. He didn't put on pants though. It just didn't seem necessary because no one was going to bother him. Not even Scott, because he had warned Scott that if he came over, Stiles was going to punch him in the throat.

 

After his pity party of Netflix and pudding while wearing no pants, Stiles still felt like shit. All he wanted was a nice date with a guy he liked and what he got was the ugly truth. Derek didn't like him and he never did. It was all an act. A good one too, because Stiles believed every minute of it. Even the stupid kiss.

 

There was one thing that made Stiles grin, and that was the notes from his secret admirer. They reminded him that at least one person liked him, even if he didn't know who it was. Stiles sighed as he laid them out in front of him and read them over and over again. After reading them all at least twenty times, he remembered the one he left in his bag. He went to pull it out, having to drag out everything else along the way to find it at the bottom. That included his study guide that he let Derek borrow and Derek wrote all over it. For some reason, that pissed Stiles off. He wanted to rip it up and throw it away, which is what he started to do until he realized something.

 

The handwriting on the studyguide looked oddly familiar. Stiles picked up one of the small notes and held it next to Derek's writing on the study guide. It suddenly hit him. Derek was his secret admirer. Stiles suddenly felt very shitty. He should've let Derek talk before running off so fast. He was so quick to believe Jackson because he thought he didn't deserve Derek. Now he had ruined everything.

 

Stiles hastily shoved everything back into his backpack and tossed it to the floor just as there was knock on his door. "Dad, I don't want to talk about it!" he yelled. His dad hadn't bothered him at all, so it made sense that now he was starting to get worried.

 

The door pushed open anyways, but it wasn't Stiles' dad. Derek grinned softly. "Uh, I'm not your dad, but. . . I do think we should talk." Derek's eyes roamed over Stiles' half naked body and he tried not to blush.

 

"So you think I have a nice ass?" Stiles asked, standing up despite his attire, which was just his striped underwear. "And beautiful eyes? And you've liked me since middle school?" He stepped closer to Derek, who's smile only faltered a little.

 

"I-I, um. . . Yeah, those notes are stupid. I mean, what's on them is true. I just kept writing them because I wanted to tell you how I felt and I never thought I would get to," he explained, his eyes glued to the floor. Stiles stepped even closer.

 

"I'm sorry I left the party. It was Jackson and a few of the other guys on your team. They told me all of these lies and I believed them because I was just trying to find a way to convince myself I didn't deserve you." He bit his bottom lip and wrapped his arms around Derek's neck. Derek tried to bite back a smile, but Stiles noticed.

 

"I meant what I said that night, Stiles."

 

And that was it for the talking. Stiles couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to taste Derek's lips again, this time while he wasn't freezing cold. They stood there, pressed together, lips moving against each other. Derek somehow got out of his shoes, then his jacket with a little help from Stiles. The bed caught them when they fell backwards and that's where they stayed for hours, kissing and watching movies and talking and just being together. And that's how they spent every sunday from then on. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
